Let's Go Fishing
by Bronwyn Celtia
Summary: Cobra's gone, but things aren't settled yet. And for some reason, Bazooka didn't seem so interested in Firecracker anymore. Bazooka/oc I don't own GI Joe yadayadayada


5

Martha 'Firecracker' Benjamin entered the Pit's mess hall and looked around as she headed to the food line. Even a month after Cobra's Last Stand, and all that went with it, it still shocked her to notice the number of missing faces, Greenshirt and Joe alike. Still hurt, too. The shock would eventually wear off. The hurt would always be somewhere inside of her, waiting to spring at odd moments. Some of those not here now, she'd see again: Hawk, Lady Hawk, Shipwreck, Flint, Duke…they were all still alive, if banged up enough to still be off the Active Duty rooster. Rock-n-Roll, Cover Girl, Quick Kick…

Firecracker firmly pushed that thought aside. She'd continue to mourn her fallen friends and teammates; she would not fall apart in public. Spanner had wanted to go back to Tirnagog: the loss of her best friend among the Joes, not to mention what had happened to Hawk, made it hard for her to cope right now. But General Colton, back from retirement until Hawk was cleared for duty, had given an order, and besides, BlackBird needed them here. Angel was actually busy, helping Lifeline in the infirmary. Spanner had taken to losing herself in the garage, working on Cover Girl's beloved tanks.

She grabbed a tray, got some food she wasn't even sure she wanted, and headed to her favorite place to sit: next to Bazooka, wherever he was. Alpine even moved over to make her a space between the two of them.

"Thanks Alpine," she flashed him a small smile. "Hey Bazooka."

"Hi kid," he didn't lift his head or look at her, which was unusual enough. Firecracker could have sworn he'd stiffened up when she sat down.

"Something wrong?"

"Just tired. Excuse me." He got up, took his tray to the pile, and left. Firecracker sat stunned. Usually, even if he'd finished his meal, he'd sit by her while she ate, unless he had to be somewhere.

"I think we're all worn out a bit," Alpine said kindly. "Morning PT has been a nightmare lately."

"Yeah, I guess." But she still felt cold.

"Bazooka, you big lug! I always knew you were shy, and a bit slow at times, but _man_!" Alpine found his friend in their room, cleaning his missile launcher. "I thought you liked that lady!"

"Too young," Bazooka didn't look up.

"Excuse me?"

"Firecracker is 29," Bazooka stated.

"That's well over legal, my friend."

"I'll be 40 soon. She's too young," Bazooka grumbled.

"You thick-witted idiot! That's barely eleven years," Alpine shook his head. "Maybe if she wasn't military, I'd agree there might not be common ground, but she's OMEGA. The same rules don't apply. Lady Hawk is 32 and Shipwreck is 43. The age difference isn't bothering them."

"I'm not Shipwreck."

Firecracker ate a few bites of her lunch, but ended up throwing most of it away. She knew Cookie would have a fit, but she'd lost her appetite. She was technically off-duty, so she had no place she had to be. She wandered topside and out to the firing range. Target practice was always a good way to vent.

"Specialist Firecracker, what is your problem?" a loud voice demanded roughly. "You haven't wasted ammo like that since your grandfather first taught you to shoot! I should make you drop and give me fifty!"

"Yeah, and you'd stand right there and count them, too, wouldn't you?" Firecracker looked at Beach Head over her shoulder.

"Are you looking for extra PT, gal?" His eyes, the only thing she could see with the balaclava he wore, narrowed. In the seven years he'd known her, Firecracker had never sassed him while either of them were on-duty. She might tease him in the rec room, but never on the practice fields.

"No, Sergeant. I'm…" she paused, not sure what to say, or how to say it. Beach Head blinked. One thing about the women in OMEGA, they were rarely at a loss for words. "I guess I'm just having a bad day, Beach. Better here than in the field."

"Then get the hell off the shooting range. And make sure you do a good job cleaning that gun, missy! I'll be looking at it later."

"Yes sir."

"Don't sir me…."

"You hold a higher rank, and you are currently the ranking officer in the Pit, other than the General, Beach. Yeah, that demands a 'sir' outta me, even if you don't like it," she shrugged, sketching a salute, then gathered her gear and headed back inside.

Firecracker cleaned the long gun, lost in thought. Maybe she was over-reacting to Bazooka's actions at lunch. Like Alpine said, they were all worn out from finally putting an end to Cobra, and right now, the future of the Joe team was questionable. Some of the guys had twenty years in, they were almost all in their 30s or 40s, and few of them had plans for when they left the military.

"You're gonna polish that barrel to a mirror, and then catch it from Beach Head or Sgt. Slaughter," Charlene 'Princess' Marcome teased, entering their shared room with her K9 partner, McArthur.

"I've already caught it from Beach Head for wasting ammo, since I could barely keep my shots in the target this morning," Firecracker sighed.

"Say what? What's wrong?"

"I thought Bazooka really liked me. Now, I'm not so sure. Maybe I blew it with the resume comment," Firecracker started putting her gun kit away. "He's barely spoken to me in three days…"

"Woman, Bazooka is _not_ a verbal soul," Princess pointed out.

"He didn't stick around when I sat down at lunch, either," the younger woman informed her roommate.

"When's the last time you asked about his refrences?"

"The first and only time was on Baby, getting out of dodge."

"That was a month ago! Martha Josephine Benjamin!" Princess shook her head. "You know that man is shier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs! You gotta let him know it wasn't just a joke, that you really are interested in being with him!"

"Char, he called me 'kid'. He hasn't ever called me 'kid' before."

"You knew right from the start he was at least ten years older than you. I didn't think it bothered you," Princess looked at her.

"It doesn't bother me. What if it bothers _him_? How do I fight that?"

"Use something heavy on his thick skull?"

"CHARLENE!"

"Okay, okay….I honestly don't know," Princess admitted. "And I don't know who you could ask, either…maybe Psyche?"

"Oh yeah, can hear that one now," Firecracker scowled. "Him claiming I have a father complex, and it's fixated on Bazooka…"

"That sounds more like Lady Hawk's mother than it does Psyche-Out," Princess snorted. "All I can say is try talking to Bazooka, and find out what really is going on, before you give up on anything."

"You do know I'm shy, too, don't you?"

"You're only shy compared to me, Spanner, Lady Hawk and BlackBird. And we're all shy compared to Angel," Princess grinned. "That man of yours gives new meaning to the term, when it comes to him and females."

"True."

Firecracker checked the duty roster for the following day, had a few words with Colton (he might be a four star general; he still didn't scare her as much as Beach Head), then enlisted Alpine's help.

"It might work," Alpine grinned. "He'd be a captive audience, so to speak."

"It had better work. The only other idea was to bounce something off his skull," Firecracker sighed.

"Now, that would not work," Alpine shook his head. "Yeah, I'll get him there. I promise."

"Thanks Alpine."

Bazooka was a little surprised when Firecracker didn't show for morning PT. Even when they didn't have anything else to do during the day, Beach Head expected everyone not on the injured/sick list to be at morning PT, and could get very vocal when they weren't.

Apparently, Beach Head knew something Bazooka didn't, because he never commented once on her absence.

She wasn't at breakfast, either, and he started to worry a bit.

"Hey Bazooka, I've got a jeep loaded with fishing equipment waiting on us," Alpine announced. "Get it in gear, my friend!"

"Fishing?" Bazooka perked up a little. He loved fishing, and it had been months since he'd been able to get out. "Gotta do something first." He'd seen Charley and McArthur enter. "Be right back."

"All I know is she got a day pass," Princess informed him. "She left before morning PT. Hell, she was gone before I even opened my eyes this morning."

"Oh," Bazooka blinked. "Okay. Bye." He went to join Alpine.

"You're gonna love this spot," Alpine informed him. "Nice deep water, shady, private…I hear the fishing there is spectacular."

"Okay," Bazooka got in the jeep. Part of his mind was still wondering where Firecracker had gone.

The drive took almost an hour, up into the forested foothills.

"Here we are," Alpine announced cheerfully, stopping his jeep behind another jeep from the base motor pool.

"Somebody's here," Bazooka noted.

"Plenty of space, my friend. Plenty of space."

They grabbed their gear, and headed to the river bank, which was dotted by boulders. On one, Firecracker sat quietly, pole in her hand, the sunlight picking up the red highlights in her brown hair.

"Firecracker," Bazooka sighed. He looked at Alpine. "You knew."

"She might have mentioned it," Alpine shrugged. "Hey Firecracker! How's the fishing?"

"No complaints so far," she replied, not turning to face them. "Keep it down, Alpine."

"Sorry. Aw damn! I forgot my fishing license!" Alpine smacked his forehead with his hand. "No fishing for me today." He carried his gear back to the jeep. Bazooka hadn't moved. "You two have fun!" Alpine had the jeep in gear and half-way back down the entrance road before Bazooka even turned around.

Firecracker hadn't moved at all. She was still facing the water, but she was watching Bazooka out of the corner of her eye.

"It's a set up," he accused, finally turning back to face her.

"You've been avoiding me almost all week," she pointed out. "I was wondering if you were maybe having trouble with those references."

"About that…" Bazooka squirmed a little.

"I don't really need them, sweetie," she pulled her line from the water, set her pole to one side, and got to her feet. "The resume is good enough."

"I'm too old."

"Too old for what, exactly?"

"You."

"You have eleven years on me. Big deal," she shrugged, jumping lightly down from the boulder. "There was fifteen years between my grandparents. I'd point out there are twenty years between Lady Hawk's parents, but they aren't exactly a shining example…"

"I am too old," Bazooka insisted, not looking at her. He was getting flustered, she noted.

"Bazooka, most of the time, the female of the human race matures faster than the male. So, we either gotta wait until guys our age actually grow up, or find someone a tad older," Firecracker informed him, prowling in his direction. "I found you. Are you gonna tell me you don't like me? After handling all those inappropriate comments made in my direction? Asking me not to flirt with Dreadknots or Crimson Guards?" She planted herself directly in front of him.

"Think you can do better," he muttered, eyes down.

"You darling lunk-head," she grabbed his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. "Better? By whose standards? Not mine!"

The next thing she knew, his arms were tight around her, and he was kissing her. Firecracker sighed contently, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. When the kiss ended, he smiled down at her.

"Let's go fishing."


End file.
